[Embezzled billions in company funds for bribes… KG Group Executive Director Gwak Sang-cheol indicted and detained.]
It was the headline of a daily newspaper. Gwak Seon-woo tapped his desk as he looked down at the newspaper laid out before him. Sang-cheol’s arrest had come even faster than expected.
The day Seon-woo met with Gwak Sang-cheol, he hadn’t gotten much of a confession. Sang-cheol insisted until the end that he had acted alone. Not only did he deny having any accomplices, but he also didn’t fully admit to the crime itself.
It was no surprise, so it didn’t deal a blow. If he were the kind of man to admit to everything after a few pointed questions, he wouldn’t have committed such a crime in the first place.
If only they could confirm whether he had an accomplice—and if so, who—that would untangle everything. But no matter how hard he and Seung-hyeon worked day and night on the investigation, they couldn’t make any headway.
As Seon-woo sat deep in thought, Gwak Seung-hyeon entered the office. After a few days of coming and going, he already carried himself like it was his own place. Once he saw Seon-woo lift his head, Seung-hyeon smiled faintly.
“You saw the news?”
Without a word, Seon-woo gestured toward the newspaper on the desk. Seung-hyeon stepped closer and glanced at the headline. Letting out a low “hmm,” he nodded and held out the phone he’d been carrying.
On the screen was an article from a major portal site. The headline claimed that Chairman Gwak had collapsed from the shock. When Seon-woo reached out and scrolled the screen, he found a photo of the chairman being wheeled out in a wheelchair, looking frail and pitiful.
Of course, there was no way the chairman had really collapsed from the shock of his youngest son’s crimes. It was an obvious act—meant to show that Gwak Sang-cheol’s corruption had nothing to do with the chairman himself.
Seon-woo and Seung-hyeon had pushed this case forward without giving the chairman any notice. He likely found out through the morning news, and even without hearing it firsthand, it was clear he would be furious. After all, turning a blind eye to Sang-cheol’s misconduct had long been the chairman’s tacit stance. He had regarded it as no more than a minor transgression—not something worth punishment.
If word had reached the chairman earlier, there was no chance he would’ve agreed to Sang-cheol’s arrest. And if the chairman had tried to interfere, things would’ve gotten messy. So keeping him in the dark had been the only sensible choice.
They had braced themselves for backlash. And sure enough, despite supposedly being unconscious, the chairman contacted them not long after. His secretary relayed the hospital location and room number in a flat, businesslike tone. They knew it was just for show—he could’ve called personally if he wanted to.
Silently cursing the sly old man, Seon-woo headed to the hospital.
Chairman Gwak had been admitted to a luxurious private room in a hospital he had ties with. It was pure theater. But as the chairman, he had no choice but to put on a front for public image’s sake.
Standing in front of the hospital room was the same secretary who had called. Since the chairman had collapsed, it was expected that not only Seon-woo and Seung-hyeon but also other relatives would come to visit. But so far, only the two of them had arrived. That was no coincidence—the chairman had summoned only them.
He must’ve assumed the two of them would arrive at the hospital separately. Judging by the look on the secretary’s face, she’d thought the same. She looked genuinely surprised to see Seon-woo and Seung-hyeon showing up together, side by side. Seon-woo even wondered what kind of expression she’d make if he told her they came in the same car, all friendly-like.
With a brief nod, the secretary gestured toward the door, indicating they could go in, and then stepped back.
Seung-hyeon moved first. As he stepped forward, he turned to Seon-woo and gently said, “Wait out here until I call you in. I’ll go in first.”
His tone was calm and slow, almost like he was talking to a child. It wasn’t the first time Seung-hyeon had spoken to him like this, so Seon-woo didn’t think much of it and simply nodded. It was the secretary who seemed more puzzled by the exchange.
Neither Seon-woo nor Seung-hyeon paid her any mind. Seung-hyeon continued with a playful note in his voice, “Figured I’d take the heat first. Maybe that’ll help him cool down.”
With a shrug, he gestured toward the door and opened it. Seon-woo briefly considered that maybe he should follow, since Seung-hyeon had just volunteered to play the human shield—but Seung-hyeon had gently held him back, and he decided to go along with it for now.
The moment the door opened, the chairman’s furious roar erupted from inside. So much for someone who had supposedly collapsed. Instinctively, Seon-woo leaned toward the door as if to follow after him. But Seung-hyeon reached a hand behind him and firmly pushed Seon-woo back. The door shut right after.
It annoyed him, but bursting in again after the door had already been closed would’ve looked ridiculous. Folding his arms, Seon-woo waited outside, trying to catch any sound from within. But the room was well insulated—he couldn’t hear the chairman’s yelling anymore.
Then, a moment later, came the unmistakable sound of something being thrown.
That did it.
Seon-woo immediately reached out and shoved the door open hard. With a loud thunk, the hospital room came into view. The remnants of a shattered glass bottle were scattered across the floor—it looked like it had just been hurled.
Seung-hyeon looked mildly flustered and murmured, “Careful, you’ll cut your foot.”
He probably meant don’t come in. But Seon-woo acted like he hadn’t heard a thing.
The chairman spotted Seon-woo striding in and looked genuinely taken aback. But only for a second—his surprise was quickly overtaken by rage.
“SEON-WOO, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”
His face was contorted like an enraged tiger. The words might’ve sounded ridiculous coming from someone else, but from him, they carried a suffocating weight. Without missing a beat, Seon-woo moved a few steps forward and placed Seung-hyeon behind him.
He responded calmly, “Glad to see you’re looking well. We were so worried when we heard you collapsed.”
Before the furious chairman could snap back, Seon-woo swiftly continued, “I was so concerned… I rushed over here the second I heard.”
It was shameless—outright brazen. Even the chairman let out a brief, incredulous laugh. A laugh was still a laugh, though, and for a moment, it seemed like the tension might ease.
But just as quickly, the chairman’s expression hardened again.
“What the hell were you thinking, pulling something like this? Did you really believe I wouldn’t have a place left for you?!”
At least he wasn’t throwing things at Seon-woo like he had at Seung-hyeon. That alone was a relief. It was the first time Seon-woo had ever seen the chairman this furious—but strangely enough, he felt completely calm.
He replied without hesitation. “You really think I did all this because I was after a position?”
The chairman flinched slightly. It seemed part of his fury stemmed from believing Seon-woo had ousted his uncle in a power grab. But Seon-woo wasn’t Gwak Sang-cheol—he wasn’t capable of something so low. He continued in an even tone.
“I assumed you had your reasons, sir. That’s why I didn’t say anything all this time, even when Uncle was clearly overstepping his bounds.”
The chairman’s voice softened. “Then what made you suddenly change course?”
Seon-woo said nothing. Instead, he pulled out his phone and played a video he’d saved in advance—the footage of Gwak Sang-cheol hiring a contract killer. No need for a hundred explanations when this spoke for itself.
The chairman stared at the screen with a sour expression, but not long after, he rubbed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He looked like he wanted to doubt his own eyesight. But no matter how many times he watched, Sang-cheol’s face on that screen wouldn’t change.
He was speechless. In that moment, the lingering suspicion—Did he really not know?—was finally put to rest.
The chairman truly hadn’t known that Gwak Sang-cheol was the one who’d ordered his brother’s murder.
It took him a long while before he finally spoke. “That footage… It’s real? I mean, is it the original?”
“There’s no chance it was fabricated.”
Seon-woo answered without hesitation. Then, just to drive the point home, he added, “You know I’d never lie about something like this. Especially not when it involves my uncle.”
It wasn’t just the chairman who flinched at that. Though he couldn’t see him, Seon-woo could sense Seung-hyeon stiffening behind him. Odd. Somehow, he was more aware of Seung-hyeon’s reaction than even the chairman’s expression right in front of him.
Still, he didn’t turn around. He simply continued, calmly and clearly, “I didn’t leak this to the press.”
Even if it was Sang-cheol’s personal crime, if something this provocative got out, the whole KG Group would be branded as a depraved, corrupt enterprise. The chairman knew that well, too. He didn’t argue—just let out a quiet exhale.
His face was full of bitter regret. As Seon-woo studied his expression, he concluded that the chairman wouldn’t try to help Sang-cheol or interfere with the investigation.
Silence fell. The chairman, still dazed, pressed a hand to his forehead and muttered to himself. “I must really be going blind… He might be a little slow, sure, but I never imagined he’d go so far…”
Seon-woo couldn’t agree more. He hesitated, watching the chairman carefully, unsure whether to ask the question that had been hanging on his mind: “So… do you have any idea who the accomplice might be?”
But seeing that devastated face, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Apparently, Seung-hyeon felt the same, because he gently rested a hand on Seon-woo’s shoulder from behind. Seon-woo gave a small nod and quietly spoke.
“I’ll handle it.”
